


Tonight, The Foxes Hunt The Hounds

by 50_points_for_ravenclaw



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fox!Stiles, M/M, Pre-Slash, Wolf!Derek, alive!Laura Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4033912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50_points_for_ravenclaw/pseuds/50_points_for_ravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kristsune said:</p><p>prompts? Hmmm well, something I like to ask for, but not many people like to deliver is serial killer sterek. It's a thing for me. If it's not for you, I'd also totally love fox!stiles and wolf!derek :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tonight, The Foxes Hunt The Hounds

This was one of Derek’s favorite things to do. Ever since he’d learned to do a full shift, transforming into a sleek black wolf reminiscent of his mother and sister, he did it all the time, as often as possible. He ran through the preserve with his pack on days where they felt like indulging him and alone when they didn’t. Most times, Laura was willing to run with him and they’d sprint for hours and hours through the trees, playfully chasing each other and testing each other’s senses. Of course Laura was much better versed in using scent to her advantage as a wolf than Derek, having been able to fully shift for years now, but she was slowly teaching him everything she knew about hunting and tracking and observation. It was thrilling.

And Derek was getting better, enough so that Talia allowed him and Laura to split from the pack on full moons to run along their territory without supervision. They’d come back to the house, panting with the exertion of their run but grinning from ear to ear as they were tackled by their younger cousins who laughed and tugged at their ears and tails giddily. Derek had never felt more like he belonged.

And then the fire happened. One moment, he was the happiest he’d ever been, shifting with his mother and sister, spending long days outside eating lunch while enjoying the cool fall air with his family on weekends, finding new nooks and crannies among the forest to hide in so he could jump out and scare one of the humans in his pack. Then they were all gone. Everyone he’d ever known and loved was just gone. He thought he’d been happy with Kate too but he’d been so so wrong.

The huntress (god how did he not know) had used his naivety to get close to him, told him they should keep their relationship a secret because her father wouldn’t approve but that she loved him and just couldn’t stay away. And then she burned his house down with his entire family inside while he and Laura were at practice after school.

He could remember the way the deputy’s face had twisted in sympathy and sorrow when he’d interrupted Derek’s basketball practice to tell him the news. Deputy Stilinski was kind and understanding and seemed to feel more empathetic than anything when Derek yelled and pushed him away as his world crumbled down around him. He ran out of the school, stumbling blindly toward the woods nearby and shifted, basketball uniform tearing and falling in shredded tatters among the leaves as he raced through the trees, catching the scent of smoke before he even reached the clearing where his house stood. Derek stayed close to the tree line, watching while the firemen doused the lingering flames eating away at what was left of his home, as two men in yellow uniforms came out of the wreckage what felt like hours later carrying a zipped up black body bag.

He couldn’t stand to stay any longer and fled back through the woods, running and running without stopping as he tried to chase away the thoughts that his family—his _pack_ —were all _dead_. It wasn’t until he’d collapsed with sheer exhaustion on a cliff overlooking Beacon Hills that Derek remembered he still had Laura and he howled long and loud. It didn’t take long for her to appear and curl up around him, snuffling at his neck mournfully while her eyes glowed alpha red. It was then that Derek knew it was all _real_. Everyone was gone. They were alone and Laura was alpha now and he knew exactly who’d started the fire without even having to really ponder it. He shifted back to human without realizing it until Laura wrapped equally human arms around him as he sobbed desperately.

They left Beacon Hills that night.

It wasn’t until nearly seven years later that they returned. Laura got a letter in the mail about the Hale property back home and the state threatening to tear down the house. Derek had felt such an overwhelming anger at the idea that they’d immediately packed up all their (few) belongings and left New York City behind. It took him two weeks after they moved back before he could convince himself to visit his old home and by then Laura had contracted a construction team to rebuild. The renovations were well under way when he stepped into the clearing, fully shifted for the first time since the fire all those years ago and he watched strangers tear apart the burned out structure to replace it with a brand new one. It was too painful to watch for long.

He ambled among the forest for a long time—long enough that, before he knew it, it was dark out and a half moon hung low in the sky. Even then Derek remained, half-heartedly chasing after small wildlife until he eventually found that same cliff that overlooked the town. He sat at the very edge, staring out over the miles of small sparkling lights that made up Beacon Hill’s night life and wondered if Laura was worried about him not returning home or if she’d been expecting this. Knowing her, she would give him until dawn at least before searching for him.

Derek wasn’t positive how long he stayed there but eventually he laid down on the ground, curling up with his tail wrapped around himself and his chin resting over his front paws as he kept his gaze fixed on the town below. The lights had dimmed some over time—Beacon Hills wasn’t a very lively place at night—but he still caught the occasional twinkle.

When he could see sunlight peeking out over the horizon, Derek heard the vague sound of rustling leaves behind him. He was tired and dozing after refusing to sleep all night so he didn’t put much thought into it being anyone but Laura having finally come looking for him. It wasn’t until he saw a flash of orange across his hazy vision that he was put on alert and he tensed, ears shifting to follow the sound of light paws padding curiously around him. With a snarl, he jumped to his feet, snapping at the creature just as it was going to sniff at his neck.

It jumped back, letting out a small yelp of fright as it skidded through the leaves before coming to a stop about ten feet away. Derek recognized the creature as a fox, slim and coated with bright orange fur riddled with spots of brown and white around its muzzle, chest, and paws. A quick sniff let him know the fox was male as well as young.

Even as he glared best he could, the fox didn’t leave. Instead, he gathered himself, though he remained a bit hunkered cautiously toward the ground, and stared at Derek with a curious tilt of the head, large ears stood straight up. Derek growled lowly but that didn’t seem to faze the fox—not as effectively as the first time at least.

In fact…the fox actually seemed to grow playful, shifting with ears thrown back and mouth open just enough for his breaths to create small white clouds in the still cold air of night. Derek snarled in annoyance pacing a wide circle around the fox in an effort to head back into the woods. He should get back to Laura while he still had the chance of making it seem as if he _hadn’t_ been romping around the woods all night. He didn’t fail to notice the way the fox followed him hesitantly and he turned to snap his jaws at him.

The fox jumped a bit and paused, watching him with wide amber eyes, eyes bigger than Derek had ever seen on any fox before. When Derek went to walk again, his companion followed once more and Derek growled. This time the fox seemed to know what was coming because he simply paused and tilted his head at Derek until the wolf began to move again.

Eventually, Derek gave up and resigned himself to his unwanted follower, at least until he reached the edge of the forest where he assumed the fox would turn back and seek out his den in the woods. He ran more quickly through the trees, the fox easily keeping pace with him, until he reached the part of the preserve that ran along the high school grounds. Pausing just outside the tree line, he peered out of the corner of his eye at the fox which was staring across the track they were standing on at the school with a strangely constipated look on his face. It almost made Derek want to bark a laugh but he took off toward the motel instead. When he glanced back, he saw the fox running toward the town rather than back into the trees, much to Derek’s surprise.

He didn’t put much more thought into it as he made his way carefully through the streets, utilizing shadows as the sun steadily rose higher. Once he’d reached the motel that he and Laura had holed up in for the past few weeks, he didn’t even get the chance to shift back and open the door to their room before his sister was doing it for him, a glare firmly in place while she watched him trudge inside. She didn’t say anything as he shifted back and immediately fell onto his bed, curling up into the sheets. Soon he was asleep so anything she could say was lost anyways.

It turned out that he couldn’t avoid the strange creature though. Whenever he was unable to sleep, he’d go back to the same place, overlooking Beacon Hills, and somehow the same fox showed up every time. Sometimes he was already there and Derek would try his best to ignore his excited yips as he curled up near the big rock. Sometimes Derek would fall asleep only to be woken up by the fox’s presence, sat just a few feet away as he looked out over the town. They developed some sort of understanding it seemed.

Until one night the fox didn’t show. They’d been following a sort of schedule, certain days of the week where they would show up and he was breaking that by going out tonight. But Derek had gotten so used to the fox’s presence that he actually found himself a bit upset, wanting to search the forest for his companion. Instead, he laid down on the ground, back pressed against the same big rock as always and settled his chin atop his paws to stare at the sky over Beacon Hills. It was nearing a full moon so there hovered an orb of white light hanging among the stars for him to gaze at. The sight was calming to his wolf. And soon, aided by the feel of a light breeze brushing through his fur, he fell asleep.

Derek wasn’t positive how long he’d been sleeping when he was woken by the sound of voices. In an instant, he was on his feet backing toward the rock as footsteps sounded louder and closer until two teenage boys appeared out of the trees. They paused when they saw the big wolf hunched low to the ground, lips raised in a threatening snarl.

“Holy shit,” one of them breathed, taking an immediate step back. “Is that a wolf?”

The other boy—this one paler, taller, younger looking—stepped closer, watching Derek with curiosity and a weird sense of fondness. Derek growled low as he neared, snapping his jaws a bit and the boy stopped.

“Stiles,” the boy’s friend hissed at him. “What are you doing? Don’t get _closer_!”

“Its fine, Scott. He won’t hurt me,” the teen—Stiles—answered distractedly, eyes fixed on Derek’s now glowing blue ones.

“Are its eyes glowing?” Scott asked incredulously.

Stiles stepped one foot closer before kneeling on one knee, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Remember me?”

Derek frowned at the question, momentarily distracting himself from continuing with his threatening growls as he pondered the question. Stiles didn’t seem to be afraid of him at all. He was actually acting like he knew Derek—at least as a wolf. Taking a cursory sniff, Derek tried to pin down where he could possibly know the boy from but his scent didn’t bring up any immediate results, thought it felt familiar.

“I probably smell different like this,” Stiles continued, voice low enough that his friend couldn’t hear him talking.

Derek narrowed his eyes, huffing a small half-hearted growl of frustration because something about this boy clicked for him. There was something there that urged Derek to relax in his presence. As Derek inhaled once again, mulling over the boy’s scent, he stared at the amber eyes watching him and it all fell into place. That underlying scent of fresh open air, beneath the scent of teenage boy and humanity—that small part of him was just like the fox.

Stiles smiled when Derek stood up straight, tilting his head in confusion at the teen.

“That’s it, bud,” he said with a grin.

“How did you do that?” Scott spoke up, awe in his voice.

“I must be the wolf whisperer,” Stiles answered with a smug smirk at his friend before reaching toward Derek with long fingers and a hoodie clad arm.

Hesitantly, Derek stepped forward, letting his nose bump into Stiles palm before pushing his entire face into the touch while the teen laughed happily. Stiles scratched at his cheeks and behind ears with just the right amount of pressure. Derek was unsure whether or not he should embrace the feeling or run away as it wasn’t often that he was around humans in his full shift and he didn’t think acting so much like a regular house pet was very dignified. By the time Stiles was scratching at his chin, he found he didn’t really care.

Scott walked over to them slowly before crouching next to Stiles, smiling a little at Derek. The wolf watched him wearily as he reached out a hand and pet the top of his head.

“He’s soft,” Scott said in quiet surprise. “Is he wild?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles answered and Derek heard the steady beat of his heart that said the teen was being truthful though he didn’t divulge any knowledge of already knowing Derek.

“You’ve never seen him up here before?” Scott asked. “You said you come up here all the time.”

“Nope. Never.” This time there was a small blip in Stiles’ heartbeat.

“Huh,” Scott hummed. “I didn’t think there were any wolves in California.”

Stiles gave a small sound of agreement but didn’t respond. They continued scratching absently at Derek’s neck and ears while they stared out at the quiet town beneath the cliff. Derek sat back on his haunches and let his head fall lazily onto Stiles’ lap, nuzzling into the warmth there while the teen chuckled and ran long fingers through his fur. Somehow this boy was one in the same with the fox. Derek hadn’t thought there were other shape shifters out there—at least not like this. And Stiles seemed so at ease and _normal_. The thought was enough to make something ache inside Derek but he pushed it away along with any memories that threatened to make an appearance.

“I should bring Allison up here some time,” Scott murmured, stretching his legs out in front him while he leaned back against his hands. “I bet she’d love it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but the fond smile on his lips let Derek know he wasn’t actually annoyed with this statement. “Yeah, man. I think she would.”

Scott grinned happily at him and reached over to lay a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, dude. This is great,” he said earnestly and Stiles pushed him away jokingly while they both laughed.

When night was just beginning to turn into morning and Scott was nodding off against Derek’s shoulder, the boys decided it was time to go. For some reason, Derek felt a small sense of panic at this and made to follow them as soon as they set off into the woods. Scott watched him with confusion and his ever present sense of awe while Derek jogged through trees, lazily chasing squirrels that crossed their path as they went, always returning to their side after running just yards away. Stiles would lean down and pet him again when he came back and Derek relished the touch.

By the time he had finally split from the teens and ran back to the motel, Laura opening the door for him with an annoyed but relieved scowl, he felt high with contentment. For the first time since the fire, his chest wasn’t tight and clenched in pain. He wasn’t haunted by bad memories—the lingering smell of smoke or sound of crackling wood. He felt… _happy_.

He went out into the forest the very next night, as soon as Laura was asleep (though he didn’t know why he bothered when Laura knew where he went almost every night). Running as fast he could through the trees, Derek reached the cliff far earlier than usual, unsurprised to find it unoccupied. Even still, a wave of disappointment overcame him for a moment as he sat in the grass with a huff.

It didn’t take long though for the fox— _Stiles_ —to show up and Derek jumped to his feet with an uncharacteristic bark. Stiles yipped in return, bounding toward him and they circled each other playfully, lunging at one another with blunt taps of their noses. Eventually, Derek grew tired of the game and jumped toward Stiles, tackling the fox’s much smaller shape to the ground where they rolled and wrestled, pawing at each other and nipping each other’s ears.

It had been so long since Derek had done anything so childish and carefree. It felt nice to let loose for once, to forget his responsibilities, forget about the Hale house renovations or his new job at the auto shop in town, forget that the only pack he had left was his alpha/sister. Chasing after Stiles, he felt like he was still among pack. He could pretend he and Laura weren’t so alone.

As Stiles took off into the trees, Derek grinned, tongue lolling from his mouth just like it would when he would run with Laura before the fire, and chased after the fox, scrambling to keep up with his quick movements. Stiles became a glimpse of fiery orange flashing among the dark forest and Derek relied more on his nose than anything in order to keep pace. The fox was quiet, paws just brushing the leaves before pushing forward again. The sight was dizzying and thrilling all at once and Derek never wanted it to end.

Of course that was when everything went wrong. He’d managed to catch up, just close enough to feel the brush of Stiles’ bushy tail against his muzzle when a loud bang echoed through the trees and the fox collapsed, rolling across slick leaves. Derek let out a bark of surprise, ears ringing as he tripped over the suddenly still form. When he managed to right himself, he saw the quick rise and fall of Stiles’ chest as the fox lay deathly still on the ground, right arm held awkwardly at his side. Derek was by him in an instant, hearing slowly coming back only for him to catch the high pitched sounds of the fox’s whines and heavy pants. That was when he spotted the red staining Stiles’ fur.

Derek growled, nosing at Stiles’ chin until he heard heavy footsteps and voices yelling. The humans were quickly getting closer and Derek was beginning to panic. He didn’t want to leave Stiles all alone but he had a bad feeling that whoever the humans were in the forest, they were probably hunters and they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him, too. Deciding quickly, Derek nudged Stiles, hunkering low to the ground as he tried to maneuver the fox’s body atop his own. Stiles seemed to understand what he was doing as he stumbled to his feet, avoiding putting any weight on his injured shoulder and practically fell onto Derek’s shoulder, whining lowly in pain.

As soon as Derek was sure the fox was secure, he ran off. Luckily, he was larger than the average wolf while Stiles seemed to have adopted a normal fox’s stature and so it was easy for Derek to carry him away, slipping from shadow to shadow as he went in order to avoid detection. He was surprised and relieved when they reached the edge of the preserve without trouble and he took off through the streets. Derek didn’t bother trying to hide in shadows now as it was the middle of the night and he didn’t want to waste another moment getting Stiles to safety.

When he finally reached the motel, Derek whined and clawed at the door for several minutes, the sound of Stiles labored breathing only pushing him closer and closer toward desperation. Laura opened the door, hair tousled with sleep but eyes alert as she watched him rush into the room. Quickly closing the door, she hurried over to where Derek was setting Stiles down on his bed with her mouth agape.

“What the hell, Derek?” she whispered fiercely.

Derek jumped from the bed, shifting as he went and grabbed a pair of jeans crumbled on the floor, slipping into them hastily while he faced her.

“There were hunters in the woods. They shot Stiles,” he explained gruffly.

“What the hell is a Stiles?” Laura asked.

Derek glanced at the still whimpering fox, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pressed a hand into Stiles’ fur and began to pull some of the pain from him. Laura watched incredulously while the black veins spiraled up her brother’s arm and the fox breathed a long breath of relief.

“The fox?” she said. “The fox is Stiles? You named a wild animal?”

Derek glared at her disbelieving expression. “He’s a shape shifter. Like us.”

Laura shook her head slowly, still attempting to process everything that was happening but paused at the look of genuine fear that crossed Derek’s face.

“Please, Laura,” he said quietly. “We have to help him.”

After a moment of deliberation, she sighed long and low before snatching her jacket off the chair by her bed. Shoving it on quickly, she began stuffing her feet into her boots as Derek watched in confusion.

“We can go to Deaton. He still lives here. If that fox is really a shape shifter then he must have been shot with some kind of laced bullet since he isn’t healing,” Laura said softly and Derek nodded.

He followed her example and slipped on a long sleeve Henley and his own boots before gingerly lifting Stiles into his arm, careful to avoid his wounded shoulder, and followed Laura out to the Camaro. Luckily, his sister seemed to know were Deaton lived as Derek doubted the vet was at his clinic this late at night and that was the only place he’d ever seen the man.

Laura didn’t speak the entire way there but she remained tense, hands clenched tight around the steering wheel and her jaw set in a grimace while she stared resolutely forward. Derek didn’t comment but silently thanked her for trusting him with this.

It took almost ten minutes of knocking for Deaton to answer the door and by that time, Derek was ready to just kick the damn thing down. Derek pushed past the half asleep man before he could even protest and found the dining room table, gingerly lowering Stiles to its surface while the fox stared up at him morosely. He could hear Laura and Deaton speaking in hushed tones but didn’t bother to listen in, opting to instead give all his attention to Stiles, pressing a hand comfortingly against his neck to begin drawing some of the pain away. The fox sighed deeply, eyes falling shut with the feeling.

“Where was he shot?”

Derek looked up as Deaton walked into the room, pulling on gloves and staring at Derek expectantly.

“Shoulder.”

Deaton nodded, stepping closer, and running gentle fingers through the fox’s fur around his injury, frowning at the blood clumped there.

“You said he’s a shape shifter?”

Stiles’ eyes opened to watch him.

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

Derek gritted his teeth, glancing toward where Laura was leaning against the doorway with a blank expression. He wasn’t ashamed or necessarily irritated at the idea of sharing the story of him and Stiles’ friendship but he couldn’t help but hesitate to blurt it all out. Of course Laura already knew he ran around in the woods almost every night but he’d never told her about Stiles. Derek honestly didn’t know how she would react to the news.

“I saw him as a human,” he finally admitted. “He recognized my wolf. And his scent…it was too familiar not to be him.”

The fox was looking up at him now and for some reason Derek felt too embarrassed to chance a peek at him. It wasn’t as if Stiles didn’t already know this, now that he knew Derek was also a shape shifter, but explaining it out loud while Stiles could only stare felt almost like he was sharing something intimate without permission.

“You were shot at by hunters?” Deaton continued, not noticing Derek’s inner turmoil.

“There was a group of them. And we were running. They had to have been aiming at us.”

“The bullet has to be laced with something. Maybe wolfsbane,” Laura piped up.

“Most likely,” Deaton mused. He leaned closer, prodding around the bullet hole with careful fingers. “I need to get it out to try and slow the spread of the poison. Could you get my kit from my office, please?”

Derek looked up at Laura who sent him raised eyebrows of disbelief in return. His glare sharpened until she sighed dramatically, throwing her hands into the air before stalking off into the house much to Deaton’s obvious amusement.

“Does your friend have a name?” he asked Derek quietly.

Derek paused before answering. “Stiles.”

Deaton’s eyebrows flew up but he didn’t comment as he went back to inspecting Stiles’ injury. His reaction though made it pretty clear that he knew, or at least had heard of, Stiles and Derek didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse about the entire situation. Did he just accidentally out a shape shifter?

Laura returned with a small medical bag which Deaton took graciously and immediately set about emptying, pulling vials of all types of herbs and powders out to set aside until he finally hummed with approval at one containing a fine deep purple ash. Setting it aside too for now, he reached into the bag again.

“You will need to hold him down,” he murmured at Derek as he pulled out a large set of what looked like medical tweezers.

Stiles whined and shifted but Derek’s hold on his stomach increased and he settled with a huff, eyes slipping shut. Deaton’s eyebrows rose once again at the easy submission but, like before, he didn’t say anything on the subject. Derek avoided his gaze, glancing at Laura who watched the proceedings with her blank expression, standing in her previous position against the door frame.

“This will hurt, Stiles,” Deaton said quietly and the fox huffed again. “Try to stay as still as possible.”

Using a wet towel—Derek had no idea where he got it from—to wipe at the wounded area, he pressed against Stiles’ shoulder firmly, sending a look to Derek who nodded and tightened his own hold, moving his other hand to press against the base of Stiles’ neck. Deaton pressed forward with his tool causing Stiles to twitch at first contact.

It was hard for Derek to watch Stiles strain against his hold, whining and panting at the pain while Deaton dug the bullet from his muscle. He knew what it felt like. He’d been shot by hunters before and he knew the pain of having to pull a laced bullet out of your body and treat it as quickly as possible. Derek couldn’t think of anything worse. And it hurt to watch someone else go through it.

“It’s alright, Stiles,” Deaton comforted. “Remember. Stay Still.”

Stiles let out an angry yip but he curled in on himself in order to keep still while Deaton pulled away with a triumphant noise, bullet clenched in the metal tongs. Derek absently petted at Stiles’ fur while he breathed heavily.

“You’re not finished yet,” Deaton reminded the fox and Derek could have sworn he saw Stiles roll his eyes in return.

Deaton didn’t waste any more time dragging the procedure out, inspecting the bullet quickly and nodding with satisfaction at what he found. He poured a small pile of the purple powder from the vial—wolfsbane from what Derek could tell from its unpleasant scent—and took a lighter to it. It flashed brilliantly before sizzling out with a trail of blue smoke.

“Get a good grip on him, Derek,” the vet said and Derek nodded resolutely.

He remembered this part. If anything, it was worse than removing the bullet and Derek frowned with sympathy as he held onto Stiles resolutely.

Deaton paused a moment before scooping the ashes into his fingers and quickly pressing them to the bullet wound. Stiles howled, higher pitched than a wolf’s but still strong and obviously filled with pain. Derek held him to the table with some effort as he thrashed against the burn of wolfsbane. And then he fell limp, whimpering and snuffling while Deaton pulled away.

“He’ll need rest. Right now he is most likely too exhausted to shift back,” Deaton explained as he went about packing his things, slipping his gloves off in the process. “I suppose I’ll have to inform the Sheriff so he doesn’t worry.”

“The sheriff?” Laura spoke up as Derek frowned.

“His father,” Deaton answered casually.

Laura sent Derek an accusing look, as if it was his fault that the sheriff’s son was a shapeshifting fox who was shot by hunters in the middle of the night. He scowled back and gathered Stiles into his arms.

“We’ll take him back to the motel so he can sleep,” he growled and pushed out of the house.

Neither Deaton nor Laura tried to stop him and he didn’t bother to listen in on their conversation as he gently settled in the passenger seat of the Camaro with Stiles curled in his lap, head resting on his thigh as the fox blinked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, running a hand behind Stiles’ ears.

He may not have been responsible for Stiles’ ability to transform into a fox but he felt like he _was_ at fault for the teen getting shot in the woods. Those hunters were on Hale territory. It was obvious who they were really after.

Laura didn’t take long to join him in the car and drive off, keeping quiet while she stared through the windshield. When they got back to the room, it was almost dawn. Derek silently laid Stiles down on his bed where the fox curled up once again, almost immediately falling asleep amongst the messy sheets and pillows.

“Don’t start blaming yourself,” Laura said softly as she watched him remove his shoes.

He glanced at her curiously to find her expression understanding and fond. She looked so much like their mother, Derek had to hold in the shiver that wanted to shake through him at the familiarity.

“I know you, Der,” Laura continued. “They were on Hale property. And they were probably looking for you or me. But that doesn’t change what happened and the fact that it would have happened no matter what you did. Stiles would still have been out there. And he would still have been shot.”

Derek closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slumped over, elbows braced on his knees where he was sitting on the corner of his bed so he could hold his head in his hands.

“You can’t control everything,” she whispered to him, walking over to press a kiss to his temple.

With that, Laura stripped back down to her t-shirt and underwear and slipped into her own bed, snuggling into her pillow. Derek gazed at her back a moment, letting himself smile in a silent thank you before he did the same. After a moment’s contemplation, he shucked his jeans too and shifted, jumping up onto the mattress and carefully lying next to Stiles, tail brushing against the fox’s.

Derek didn’t really remember falling asleep but the next thing he knew, he was being woken by the sound of a loud yelp and the bed shifting beneath him. When he opened his eyes, he saw the sheets twisted and pulled over the edge of the mattress and scooted to peer at the floor. Stiles, human now, was tangled amongst them, face glowing a splotchy red as he groaned in pain.

When he noticed Derek’s wolf staring at him, he gulped, pulled the sheets tighter around his waist, and sent him a sheepish grin.

“Could I uh—could I get some clothes? Please?” he added as an afterthought and Derek snorted.

Derek remained as wolf as he nodded toward his duffle bag behind Stiles’ head because obviously the idea of nudity made the teen uncomfortable. Stiles quickly grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the bag and practically sprinted to the bathroom, sheets still wrapped around his hips, the door slamming shut behind him. While he dressed and gathered himself, Derek shifted back and pulled on the same pair of jeans from the night before.

“So uh…” Stiles’ voice came from behind him and Derek turned to see him standing in the doorway to the bathroom, Derek’s shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders. “So you’re a shape shifter too, then?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, pulling on the same Henley. He couldn’t help but notice Stiles’ gaze flicker down to his abdomen and fought off a smirk.

“I’ve never met a werewolf,” Stiles continued. “I’ve actually never met another shape shifter—well except my mom. But that doesn’t really count, ya know? And it’s just been me in Beacon Hills for as long as I can remember. At least as far as I know. When I saw you in the forest, I never really thought you might be…like me.”

Derek didn’t bother asking what happened to Stiles’ mother. It was clear she wasn’t around anymore.

“So those…people last night. They were hunters?”

Derek nodded. “They were after me.”

Stiles frowned at that, biting his lip. “How do you know that?”

“Because I came back,” he answered simply.

Stiles nodded absentmindedly, as if he didn’t exactly know what Derek meant by that but did know better than to push it. He stepped back into the bedroom, bare feet shuffling against the rough motel carpet.

“I should probably…get home,” he murmured. “My dad is probably freaking out.”

Derek noticed the way Stiles rubbed at his right shoulder without even seeming to realize he was doing it but let out a breath when he saw the expanse of clear skin. No bullet hole. No scar. It was like it never even happened.

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

Stiles looked like he was going to protest but nodded instead and they headed out to the Camaro. Derek knew Laura would leave it behind for this exact reason and vowed to pick up one of those blueberry muffins she loved so much from the coffee shop downtown on his way to pick her up at the Hale house later.

They stayed relatively quiet for the entire drive, only speaking when Stiles gave him directions and Derek offered free reigns to the radio. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable but there was an air of unfinished business that lingered over them that choked Derek every time he tried to say something. When they pulled up to Stiles’ house, a decently sized two-story place with a sheriff’s cruiser sitting out front next to a beat up blue jeep, the teen didn’t immediately get out of the car.

“Thank you,” he said eventually. “For…ya know, saving my life and everything.”

Derek’s expression softened and he nodded slowly. Before he could tell himself not to, he blurted, “That’s what friends are for right?”

Stiles’ lips pulled slowly into a wide grin and he let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. That’s what they’re for.”

He bit his lip as if he wanted to say something else but instead he unbuckled his seat belt and exited the car. Just as he looked to be walking away, he turned back and crouched, knocking at the window. Derek obliged, rolling it down.

“I’m totally faster than you,” Stiles rushed out, seeming to surprise himself but he smiled at Derek.

Derek felt the corners of his lips twitch in return. “We’ll see about that.”

Stiles’ answering laugh was blinding and elated and certainly something Derek couldn’t wait to see again.

“Alright, Big Bad Wolf,” he said. “You’re on.”

Derek nodded with a smirk of his own as Stiles stepped away from the car.

“See you around, Derek,” he said warmly.

Derek couldn’t remember telling Stiles his name but that only proved the teen to be observant even when he was bleeding out. He let his smirk grow into a fond smile and saluted Stiles for extra measure.

“See you around, Stiles.”

And he did.

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun with this and now I just want to make like a whole series for it  
> Also the title is form a Fall Out Boy song because I am trash
> 
> Send me prompts at my Tumblr: https://50-points-for-ravenclaw.tumblr.com


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